The Chaos of Life

One child screams from the other room and the other is not so gently pulling me into the opposite direction while the other child kicks me from within my own body. In the mornings during the week add two more little voices to the madness.

Some days I swear I live in a crazy house.

My husband jokes that I will be sent to one, whereas I argue that I've already been sentenced time in one.

All joking aside, it truly can be chaotic.

Not everyone gets along every day. Not everyone likes each other every day. Not everyone has good days every single day. Not everyone agrees to the same games. Not everyone agrees to the same lunch. Not everyone agrees to the same understanding when chaos breaks free.

I rarely agree with the kids.

The kids rarely agree with me.

I normally win unless I find myself hiding in the bathroom sneaking in a bite of a candy bar or a Girl Scout cookie.

This is life.

The chaos of life.

Where I choose to keep pushing forward even when I really just want to pull my hair out or even run away. I know I can't. Well I could pull out my hair, but that really wouldn't do me any favors.

In my mind I fast forward and think to the times they will be more willing to help me around the house. In my mind I fast forward to the times that fighting between the kids doesn't mean hitting, yelling, taking toys, crying and the inevitable time out where more tears and screams occur. In my mind I fast forward to the times where they can talk things out between themselves. In my mind I fast forward to the times where I am not having to explain the same thing over and over and over again. In my mind I fast forward to the times where they can make their own lunch. In my mind I fast forward to the time I can sit down and drink an entire cup of hot coffee without reheating it.

And then I look down at that little hand pulling me.

I see crazy red hair that refuses to be tamed by the little girl who wears it. I see a little person with a fiery, but sensitive heart who cries mama whenever she needs anything. I see the cute little clothes that adorn her that I was able to pick out myself before the time of arguing what she can wear in public becomes a problem. I see a beautiful baby bump full of another new life that I am incredibly grateful for. I see a little boy who is not so little any more running after me screaming for me because he cannot find his superhero cape to go save his own chaos in his own little world.

The chaos of life is what makes life.

Because what would life be like without that chaos?

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